


Try

by JessaLRynn



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Attempted Sex, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Humor, Zero-gravity sex, sod's law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessaLRynn/pseuds/JessaLRynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For her, for the first time, everything should be perfect.  Well, that's the idea, anyway.<br/>The Doctor tries to make it perfect, and everything just goes perfectly pear-shaped instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Olfactory_Ventriloquism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olfactory_Ventriloquism/gifts).



> One of OV's birthday fics. Two or three chapters of adventure before we get to the sexytimes.

"How the hell should I know?" the Doctor demanded. The monitor screen flashed at him, and he sighed. Did any bloke _ever_ know the answer to these stupid bloody questions? He resigned himself and clicked the more expensive "Choose upon arrival" option. It wasn't as if the money mattered, after all, and maybe later on the choice could get made by someone who knew more on the subject.

A new question appeared and he gaped at it. Seriously? "All right, that is enough," he grumbled at the screen. "It's possible that I coulda picked the right kind o' sheets at some point in me lives. But bath oil?" He glowered, fuming as the screen made the unhelpful offer of providing more choices. "I'm a Doctor, not a fashion consultant."

There was a cheery peal of laughter from behind him, and the Doctor started, then flicked the sonic at the monitor. Pictures and words alike converted to the geometric notes of technical Gallifreyan, and the Doctor only hoped his reflexes were better than his stress level at the moment. He turned and grinned sheepishly at Rose, wondering what she'd found so funny.

Rose took his grin as an invite, and slipped up beside him, her arm wrapping easily around his waist, under his jacket, as she burrowed into her place. The Doctor relaxed almost immediately, despite what her mere presence did to his blood pressure. "What's funny?" he asked, because she just cuddled and giggled and although it was pleasant enough, it wouldn't do for his Time Lord dignity to be ridiculous without knowing why.

"Can't believe you said that. Always wanted to hear it, sure, but I can't believe it all the same."

The Doctor mentally rewound the last few minutes, and realized he'd spouted, effectively, someone else's line. He rolled his eyes and Rose poked playfully at his bottom lip. "You're pouting."

"Am not," he tried to claim, though he'd make daft expressions for a week just to amuse her. He had the face for it, really, this time out. Well, if he was honest it was rarer not to have the face for it, but never mind.

Rose stood on her toes and kissed his jaw, as high as she could reach, and her hand went into the back pocket of his jeans. She squeezed and the Doctor jumped.

"Sorry," she apologized, but if he had to identify her expression, he'd say offended, not offending. Her hand almost slipped out of his pocket, but he stilled her by pulling her closer.

"Caught me off guard," he admitted, placing a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose. 

"S'what I do," she teased. "Someday, you'll be an old man with a cane an' I'll still sneak up and pinch your bum."

"No doubt," the Doctor agreed. If anyone could do it, it would be Rose Tyler. In fact, he couldn't help wondering if it had already happened, at least for him. It would be just like her.

"Why aren't you a fashion consultant?" Rose wondered, then considered his jumper with a crinkled nose. "'Part from the obvious."

"Oi!" the Doctor protested. "Are we still on that?"

"You could take it off," Rose suggested, well, suggestively. "I wouldn't complain."

The Doctor chuckled self-consciously, and rapidly changed the subject. "How d'you feel about space stations?"

"Earth ones or alien ones?" she asked.

"Alien ones," the Doctor admitted.

She breathed a sigh of what could only be relief. "Sounds brilliant. But no more Earth ones, they're nothing but trouble."

As every time they'd visited one, someone tried to kill them and destroy the planet (except the time the planet being destroyed was the point), he could only agree with her. "Why don't you go put on something nice?"

"You saying this ain't nice?" she demanded, and it took him a stammering second to realize that her eyes were dancing. She darted gleefully out of the console room before he'd recovered from a very near double coronary. "Make sure you change, too," was left floating in the air behind her.

He was dating a human girl, and he was so completely out of his depth that it was entirely possible he would drown in her. The Doctor couldn't actually think of a better way to go than being lost in Rose Tyler.

He flicked back to the computer screen and just selected all the "choose later" options. He'd pack up entire star systems for the girl who'd saved his universe. Any amount of nuisance was worth it.

**

The name of the space station translated to "Glitter" in Standard, a name the place earned well. It was a Christmas bauble, sparkling glass against the tinseled background of two visible arms of a spiral galaxy. At a distance, it looked impossibly delicate, a crystal set on the velvet cloak of the night behind it. 

Rose was completely awed by it, watching their approach through the open dome that was usually the TARDIS's vaulted ceiling. She was bubbling, practically effervescing, her joy and excitement so complete the Doctor could feel it without touching her. He wondered if she had any idea how happy he was right now, or how nervous. He wondered if she knew she was more beautiful than the night that framed her.

"Ready?" the Doctor asked, touching the stabilizer controls to make minute adjustments the TARDIS usually didn't require.

"I guess," Rose said, hesitantly, and the Doctor wondered if it was time to panic yet. "Just tell me those aren't escape pods."

"What?" he said, and thought, 'nonono, not now, don't you dare'.

"Those bubble-looking things," Rose said, and pointed out one of the seemingly tiny spheres that hovered and spun in the space station's wake.

Relief flooded him and the Doctor set the materialization sequence. "They're part of the attraction to this place. Sort of a space walk, no suit required."

Rose gave a sigh and sounded as relieved as the Doctor felt, when she said, "Given our luck with space stations, I thought I'd better check."

"Good point," the Doctor allowed, reluctantly.

"It's so beautiful," she murmured. 

"Ready to see it up close?" he asked.

Her voice was warm and inviting. "Always."

**

There was a mile high waterfall that seemed to cascade down from the very stars above them and threw exploded rainbows all over the room around them. The floor beneath them - or the apparent lack thereof - left them standing above the whirlpool of a young galaxy which flung endless spirals of new born suns across the curtain of night. The starlight and shattered light mingled with candlelight to glimmer off a thousand silver candelabra, each seeming to hover in midair, undisturbed by the passage of bodies, even right beside them.

Rose knew without having to ask that any of these sights was something few if any humans would ever see. She knew she should be breathless with awe in the face of the glory and majesty of it. 

Well, she was breathless, and she'd be willing to admit to awe, as well, but it wasn't the beauty all around her that had her caught within the spell. Rather, it was the Doctor, her Doctor, and he was all the beauty Rose thought she could handle.

He was wearing a tuxedo. She wanted to tear it off with her teeth. There was very little room in Rose's head for thought beyond this point. Well, that and biting his throat just above his bow-tie, worrying her mark into his skin, and then proceeding to lick and suck every inch of him she could get her longing little mouth near. 

It was, admittedly, one of the most fantastic places she had ever seen, but it was pale and simplistic next to the wonder of being loved by the man she was in love with. All the splendor in the universe couldn't even dim the jeweled sparkle of his bright blue eyes.

Besides, the way he was looking at her suggested that she wasn't the only one with ideas in the ripped clothes and frantic kisses department. Rose licked her lip. He was undressing her with his eyes, of that she had no doubt. The possibility that he was touching her quite intimately with his thoughts crossed her mind and made Rose shiver. Her want for him bloomed into full-grown lust and basked under the heat of his gaze. She licked her lip again, knowing that he was just about to kiss her, properly this time, and maybe follow the kiss with a few dozen more kisses, and then maybe put off looking at the pretties for a rough but satisfying shag back in the console room. 

It wasn't that she couldn't be patient - she could, she'd waited for him for more than a year. She just couldn't be patient now, not when she was finally sure that he'd really meant it when they'd agreed they were together now. 

The walls here seemed to be transparent, but Rose didn't let that stop her from at least considering them as a likely enough spot for a first time.

He lowered his head and Rose couldn't help staring, watching his eyes darken as he leaned toward her. She felt lightheaded, nearly dizzy with anticipation.

"Welcome to the Glitter Resort," said a cheery, plummy voice from almost exactly where they were least paying attention.

The Doctor looked, for a split second, like he just might kill something. Rose thought she just might help him.

**

"Where were you?" Rose asked as the Doctor finally came up to sit next to her at the bar. 

"Gettin' grilled by the designer inquisition," he decided, because he couldn't explain that he'd put off having to answer questions earlier, only to end up answering them at a far less convenient time. He put his arm around her shoulders and gestured the bartender over.

"Anything like the Spanish one?" Rose wondered.

"More grilling, different torture, less homosexuals," the Doctor answered blandly.

Rose laughed, and the Doctor immediately felt more cheerful. He ordered a simple soda and smiled as her hand found its way onto his knee. She chatted in happy fascination about the scintillating people she had seen so far, the locals literally shining inside their glass carapaces. The Doctor told her what he knew of them, and the most frequent visitors, and that this place had never, not once, been invaded.

"Overdue, aren't they?" Rose asked, her hand an exciting but comfortable warmth meandering along his thigh, now.

The Doctor shrugged and nodded thanks to the bartender as it set his drink in front of him. "Statistically speaking, if a place has never been invaded..."

"I'm here, you're here," Rose said. "We're a whole set of statistically nomal-whatsits."

He was going to correct her, since she'd made a complete hash of "statistical anomalies". However, he noticed her tongue poking through her teeth as she grinned at him. She'd done it on purpose, apparently, just to get a rise out of him. She was brilliant, Rose. He tossed her a wry salute with his glass and took a drink.

Her hand, under the table, slipped down between his legs, stroking the inside of his thigh. The Doctor swallowed hard to avoid spraying soda everywhere, amazed to learn that the true evolutionary purpose of a Time Lord's respiratory bypass was to deal with sensual responses caused by wandering human hands.

He leaned close so he could murmur in her ear. "Tryin' to get a rise out of me, Rose Tyler?"

"I can't believe you said that." She groaned and moved to take her hand away. He caught it the fastest way available, then casually slipped his free hand under the table to cover hers. 

Rose made a tiny noise as the Doctor held her still, temptingly close, but not quite. He wondered idly if there was any corner of the little Resort bar private enough. "Now what?" he murmured invitingly. She shivered and it thrilled him, that he could do that to her with just a look and a few words.

"You run a lot," Rose said, and the Doctor hadn't known her voice could do that, make a statement of fact into a sexual suggestion, simply by the tone. She ran a fingertip along the inseam of his jeans, her touch just firm enough to burn.

Even though it made him weak-kneed, Rose's touch also gave him courage... among other things. "Wanna run to our room?" he offered playfully. Not that he was actually going to be running, given that she had succeeded quite admirably in getting a rise out of him. 

Rose gave him a look that seemed to describe exactly how he felt: like he could just knock her off that stool and take her where ever they landed. "Was afraid you'd never ask," she said... no, she purred it, her voice all sensual and sexual and so inviting, the Doctor wondered why he'd ever thought a strictly platonic relationship was a good idea.

The Doctor shivered and put his hand up to cup the back of her head. He couldn't wait to see what her drink tasted like on her lips.

The cheery little chime next to their seats wasn't enough to interrupt them. The bar was closing, and the Doctor thought that was very good timing. He leaned closer to Rose, watching her eyelashes flutter down to flicker on her cheeks. The perky announcement came next, beckoning them to supper in the dining room while the bar was cleaned for some event. It was a truly awful voice, as squeaky as nails on a chalkboard, and with everything, it wrecked the mood entirely.

**

"What d'ya think?" the Doctor murmured.

Rose wasn't actually thinking. She was still trying to recover from the luxuriant, sensual shock of the fruit he had fed her. Her whole body felt it, like a rich hot drink on an icy evening, like finding the only sunbeam on a dreary morning. "Ummm." She felt comfortable and almost drunk on the sweet, sensual flavor. 

The Doctor grinned. "Sets off the same endorphins as chocolate," he said, and of that, Rose had no doubt whatever.

"It's gorgeous," she confessed. Her fingers curled around another fruit on their dainty little plate, and she dipped it into the golden swirl the locals served beside it. The Doctor watched her as if he couldn't take his eyes from her, and when she brought the fruit up to trace his lips with it, he actually shivered as he leaned into her touch.

She had never felt more loved in her life. That he had done all of this for her she no longer doubted. He'd requested a table as far out of the way as possible and been given it at once. They were sharing an intimate meal like the ones Rose had only heard about in her mum's Mills and Boone novels, all finger foods and suggestive service. The room was dim and candlelit, the tables in private little alcoves out of sight of other diners. The spectacular view, however, hadn't been neglected, the whole center of the floor clear glass, revealing the jeweled night. It really was completely incredible.

The Doctor licked the sauce from her fingertips and Rose couldn't help wishing he'd not gone to such lengths. It was painfully tempting to just climb into his lap and have her way with him here and now. The Doctors eyes were sparkling, his smile knowing. 

They fed each other delicate morsels, fingers and hands and lips and quiet laughter. Rose was getting high off the food, higher off the company. The Doctor, too, had relaxed almost completely. She reclined against him, her hair falling down from it's perfect sweep, curls falling around her head and making her feel, somehow, impossibly sexy. His tie was undone, his fingers toying idly with the soft skin where her dress ended very low on her back. 

_Kiss me_ , she thought, wondering if he could read her mind, wondering if he would.

"Rose," he whispered, so very close to her lips.

"Doctor," she answered, invited, begged. She closed her eyes, tilted her face toward him like a flower to the sun.

"Hi!" said a tiny voice from the other side of their table.

"Really?" Rose asked the universe at large.

"Where'd you come from?" the Doctor asked the piping voice, and Rose realized it was only the fact that he adored children that kept the threat of utter mayhem out of his voice.

"I runned away!" exclaimed the very tiny, very purple little... girl? boy? child leaning on their table as if about to climb onto it. It was the clothes; Rose didn't have enough experience with local fashions to tell the gender of a kid as young as this one with them.

"That was probably a bad idea," the Doctor answer. "Bet they're lookin' for you already. You should run back."

Despite the purple skin and hair, the child looked mostly human, and Rose knew a scared kid when she saw one. She offered a smile, even if she didn't feel like one at the moment. "I got lost," the kid whispered.

The waiter, who had brought them their meal and mostly left them alone since approached them quite diffidently, and Rose wondered if he was going to take the kid away, and if she should let him. She was no good with kids herself, but the Doctor always had a handle on them, so she thought it might be best to let him deal with this. It was his mission, saving the world, and rescuing the occasional kitten from the odd tree.

"Sir, I'm so very sorry to disturb you, but the concierge said you're a doctor..."

"S'been known," the Doctor allowed. "What seems to be the problem?"

Meanwhile, the purple child climbed over the table, kicked over the artificial candle over, and looked right into Rose's eyes. "You're nice for a wolf," the kid told her.

Rose blinked. That wasn't exactly expected, but she brushed it off. "You're nice, too," she said, "but you'd be nicer off the table."

"Sorry," the kid said, and slipped down into her lap. "Hi," she - Rose was convinced she was a girl, now - chirped. "I'm Flute. I'm from Syra."

"A Tyggridian eating vo-shu?" the Doctor yelped. "Is his scanner faulty or something? Get to the kitchen, and bring me a container of milk and a bowl of that green salt you lot're always using. Oh, and a nutmeg."

"Yessir!" Rose wasn't exactly surprised to see the waiter do some sort of military looking salute before he ran off.

The Doctor jumped up and was on the other side of the table before Rose could blink. He looked back at her, and there was urgency in his expression, but also a great, weary sort of defeat. "Rose," he said, looking like he wanted to find the words to apologize.

"Don't worry," she said, needing him to know it was all right. She was disappointed, sure, but not with him, never with him. "You go on. Do what you can, yeah?"

"But Rose..."

"S'all right," she promised. "Look, I'll just get Flute here back to her mum, an' catch you up."

The Doctor looked almost as relieved as he had once when he'd found out the Dalek couldn't kill her. "Rose, I..."

It hit her hard, in the chest, exactly what he wanted to say, exactly what he felt, because she felt it, too, need and hope and a bitter sort of amusement, yes, but also love, so much love that she wondered how her single heart would ever be big enough to hold it all. "Oh, Doctor," she said, and reached out to squeeze his hand. "Me, too."

He kissed her fingertips, and then turned and he was gone.

"Yours?" Flute asked, gesturing at the Doctor's back.

"I hope so," Rose answered, admiring his resolve and his bum - no use letting a good view go to waste - until he disappeared into the dimness of the dining room.

"C'mon, Flute, let's find your folks."

"Thanks, Rose," Flute said, her cheery voice unconcerned now that she'd found someone to help her.

It occurred to Rose only after they'd checked three tables for Flute's parents, that nothing good ever came of it when she and the Doctor got separated. Therefore, she was absolutely unsurprised when the very next thing that happened was an alien invasion.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the more culture-universal facts of all the cultures of all the universe, the Doctor had long since discovered, was that some people couldn't be convinced of the truth no matter how it kitted off and flashed them. It was a frustration he constantly endured, and usually he couldn't make time for such people, but at the moment, he felt sorry for someone else, and therefore was at least pretending to listen to a rant by just such a person.

"While I admit to being constantly thrilled with the new innovations they come up with here, I have to say that a so-called invasion hardly seems likely to gain..."

The staff of Space Station Glitter were polite to a fault, really, but even this one seemed to know when an interruption, however carefully it needed to be phrased, was necessary. "Please get on the shuttle, Mrs. Dralix. Everything will be fine if we all just remain calm."

The Doctor offered a supportive smile to the concierge, full of sympathy for the creature so young, its carapace was still pink and translucent. It nodded a shaky sort of thanks and tried to help heft the loquacious Mrs. Dralix into the shuttle. The Doctor did most of the lifting, but then he was better built for it, and Time Lord physical strength, though unexpected of a species of rabid academics, was more than adequate.

"I don't know what you're smirking about, young man," Mrs. Dralix snapped at the Doctor, who had not, in his opinion, been smirking about anything. Growling, frowning, glaring, anything, but not smirking.

He wanted to bang his head against the side of the shuttle. Well, if he was more honest, he wanted her to bang her head on the side of the shuttle. He'd been assisting with the evacuation for entirely too long now and didn't have time to wait for anyone else to be polite. "Get. On. The. Boat." He gave her a last firm push, and she disappeared, though it took her voice, screeching and raging about how she never, several more seconds after she was gone to follow her.

"Thank you," the concierge said. "We've saved you a seat in first class..."

"Not going," the Doctor cut it off. "Go on, child. Off you go." Couldn't call it a lad, really, though he thought it.

"Why..."

"I gotta get back to Rose," the Doctor said, and made to sprint off. "'Sides, my ship's here."

"Wouldn't your mate have left with one of the other craft? We can check for her..."

"Not Rose," the Doctor said simply. "Just... not Rose." He was already halfway up the shuttle bay by the time he'd finished that sentence.

He almost wished he was wrong, that she had caught a ride on one of the other ships, headed off to safety. He knew her better than that, of course, just as she'd known better than to assume anything was actually going to go his way just because he'd actually planned ahead for once.

But even he couldn't have imagined anything would go this wrong. Space Station Glitter was crawling with Krargs, and as far as the Doctor knew, there wasn't anything out here they could possibly want. Made of crystals grown in programmed vats on their vast space cruisers, they lived off energy and had few if any physical needs the entirety of their short lives. 

Of course, that left the possibility that someone else wanted something. Krargs, after all, were usually employed as mercenaries. The convenience of a disposable soldier combined with the strength of a nearly indestructible one made the Krargs an easy choice for those, mercifully few, who could afford them. 

The problem was that the Doctor used to know who could afford and was likely to use Krargs, but most of them were dead in a War that would give him nightmares forever. He didn't know anymore, couldn't guess who would do this, what they could possibly want with a resort in the middle of sparkling nowhere.

Rose had trusted him, and what had he been thinking, exactly, bringing her here into something like this, just because he'd wanted to show off for his girlfriend? What possible excuse could cover the fact that he had no idea how to save them, what they were facing now, what he was doing with a girlfriend in the first place?

Maybe the ghosts in his memory were right, and he had absolutely no right to any of this. Maybe this was all the proof he'd needed, that he didn't deserve her, didn't deserve anything. He literally could not take her anywhere without putting her in danger, and even his attempts at taking her out like a normal bloke were failing miserably. Maybe when he'd rescued her, he should take her home to her mother where she'd be safe, and where he couldn't get to her to hurt her any more.

He couldn't possibly be any good for her at all. He was so old, and so tired, and so alone. He had nothing to offer her, except danger and fear and a rackety old TARDIS. Maybe a leather jacket, and a ringing tuxedo jacket.

He stared down toward it in surprise, then dashed through the nearest doorway in hopes that none of the Krargs had heard the sound and would come to investigate. A flash of the sonic screwdriver to seal the door, a quick scramble, and he'd found the offending sound, Rose's sparkly pink mobile, in his top pocket.

He flipped it open, warily, convinced Jackie Tyler knew what he'd been planning and was about to give him an earful that would fill even ears as large as his. His tone reflecting both his reluctance to be heard and his even greater reluctance to talk to the person on the other end of the line, he murmured, "Hello?"

"Doctor! Oh, thank God!"

He took the mobile away from his ear and blinked at it in utter astonishment. It kept squawking on, though, so he shook himself and jerked it back again. "Rose? Where the hell are you, what're you doing?"

"Calling you," she said, as if it was blindingly obvious, and the Doctor had to catch his breath.

"How're you calling me?" he demanded, so proud of her he knew he'd never find the words.

"Oi, I know my own mobile number," she snapped, and the Doctor laughed out loud from sheer joy at the absurdity of the whole thing. "Be nice to me!" Rose ordered, and he could hear unwilling humor in her voice.

"Sorry," he said, almost sheepishly, stifling the laughter only with enormous effort. He was so happy just listening to her talk, he could almost forget the whole stupid invasion thing. "Where are you?"

**

Rose shook her head at the little handheld she'd lifted and wondered how she could possibly explain that. They were in a water closet just off from the kitchen, because one of the locals had blamed Flute for this whole thing and shoved them in here. Rose had made a point of stealing its phone thing, hoping she could figure out how to dial the superphone, and discovered it was easy. But there wasn't time, and she wasn't sure the Doctor would believe how she'd figured it out.

Resigned, she settled on just trying to explain the rest. She was so happy to hear him talk that she didn't care that they only had minutes. The giant rock creatures were just outside the door. She doubted there was time to relay the whole long and tedious story she'd gotten as they were being pushed in here about how this was the local Casanova's favorite trysting closet, or how he'd had one-way sound proofing put on it, or how the cook was convinced he'd also had three of the hostesses, one of the bartenders, the night manager, and the maitre d' in here. She hadn't even had time to ask the one doing the shoving if the bloke's name was Jack. She knew for sure, luck being what it was, that the creatures would eventually check in here, and needed the Doctor to know that, too. "Flute'n me are safe for the mo', but I'm not sure how long that's gonna last. But look, Doctor, it isn't you or this place they're after."

"What? How d'you know?"

Rose took a second to glance back toward the wall, where she could still hear the grating boom of one of the boulders conveying orders to all the other boulders. It was being very specific, relaying exactly what needed to be done in full detail. She wasn't sure why, but was willing to guess that the other boulders might not be quite bright.

"I can hear 'em, right outside this door, and they're saying they're after the Sirens, and I just thought..." She didn't want to say anything more about that with Flute drowsing safely in the corner of the cupboard, but the Doctor spared her having to ask.

"Right outside the door?!" He sounded completely terrified, and it almost scared Rose even more than she already was scared, to know that the situation seemed that urgent to him. "Rose, where are you, get out of there!"

All the same, she couldn't give in to fear, just as she knew he never would. It was his way to plow on, no matter how frightened or hurt, and he was her inspiration as much as he was the love of her life. "Just listen!" she insisted, urgently. "Flute said she was from Syra, right?"

"Oh, no," the Doctor breathed, and Rose couldn't help wondering what he had just run into, what he would be doing without her to get himself into terrible danger. She knew she needed to be there, but Flute needed to be safe, too, and Rose couldn't just leave the kid, not when these monsters were probably.... The Doctor interrupted her chain of thought again with a quiet but urgent, "Rose, you need to grab the kid and run."

She took her hand off the talk button when there was a horrible thump at the door. She needed him to understand before the giant rock things managed to get in here, that she would do anything and everything to keep them from hurting the innocent little girl. She touched the control again, when it seemed like maybe they wouldn't come in after all. "Sorry," she said, very, very quietly. Even knowing it was safe didn't stop her from keeping it down. "S'too late. Just... it's her they're after. I've gotta try to save her." 

Just when she'd started to think that maybe they would lumber on past this door, failing to investigate it simply because it wasn't easily accessible, the thumping came again. This time, it was soon joined with the sparking sound and charred, burning smell of the control panel and wiring with it exploding. There was no time to protect the Doctor from hearing it, so Rose protected Flute instead, snatching the kid up and wrapping her arms around her tight, her hand over one of the little girl's ears while she woke to a nightmare. 

"Rose!" the Doctor's voice shouted, tinny and vanishing over the speakers. "No, get out of there!"

"Doctor," she said just to let him know that she was still there. Oh, she wanted to tell him, so much, but there was an audience and there wasn't time, and she didn't think it was fair. "Sorry. I just..."

His voice was suddenly as solid and firm as the diamond casings of this space station, and Rose could almost feel the strength of his arms around her. "I'll be there fast as I can."

She couldn't help smiling, because once the Doctor made up his mind, there was no stopping him. Not even Daleks could keep him from her. These things didn't have a chance. She put on her best confident tone, and said, "Knew I could count on you," just to hear his reluctant chuckle since she couldn't see his smile. Of course, her bravado only made it a few seconds, before what she really wanted to say came up again. "I... See you soon."

"Me too," he said, as she had when last they parted. "Oh, Rose. Me too." 

The door shrieked and screamed open, but it was under protest. The monster that pulled it open moved so slowly Rose suspected it had to force it the whole way. When it finally had the gap wide enough to see them, Rose was ready for them. She kept the whimpering and sobbing Flute behind her, kept her close, kept her safe. The creature that lumbered through the door didn't have anything that resembled a face to Rose's senses, just two laser-bright eyes near the top of a rock-slab head. Nevertheless, she was convinced the creature was surprised when she faced it, with crazy confidence that she didn't really feel in her tone. "Take me to your leader!" she ordered, because why not.

"That always works in films," she confided to Flute as the creature stepped back out of the room.

**

"Bring the child forward."

"Over my dead body."

The dialogue he arrived in the middle of did nothing for the Doctor's nerves, or anything, really. Rose's idea that they were after Flute was apparently right, and her conviction that they weren't going to get the kid was apparently unshakable. He was completely proud, and completely terrified, and he wished for nothing but to carry her away and keep her safe forever.

She wouldn't want that, of course. Nothing stopped Rose, not ever, from being the light that outshone all the darkness in the worlds. He readied his sonic and moved faster, only pausing long enough to deal with one thing. "You pair keep back here," he ordered. There wasn't even a slight argument.

He'd found them, two purple adolescents, just after he'd gotten off the phone with Rose. They were searching for their little sister, whom they were meant to be watching. However, they were meant to be watching her on the nearby planet Syra, and not, under any circumstances, taking her into the family triplette and visiting the nearby Space Station to see a show. 

While the Doctor could relate to the adventurous teenagers and runaway kid scenario, and sympathize with them too, even he had never managed to set off an invasion just by showing up somewhere when he was that young. The revolution, border dispute, universe ending paradox, and poker tournament were all beside the point. The fact that he didn't even have to show up to set one off now was also beside the point. The point was that at the moment he didn't have time to figure out how Flute had managed to become a child after his own hearts when they'd never even met properly before.

Rose needed him, and there wasn't time for anything less than everything he had. His feet couldn't carry him fast enough, and he couldn't think beyond the need to snatch her up and hold her forever. So much for sending her home...

"Let her alone!" Rose's voice was trembling, but she was firm, determined. The Doctor could see her in his mind, that jaw jutting, stubborn and proud, as she held her shoulders tight and square and tried to make herself seem bigger than she was. "She's just a little kid!"

He burst through the doors of the restaurant where he'd last seen her, between two guard Krargs, just in time. There was one towering in front of her, a Krarg Commander three times her size, looming over her like a furious mountain. However... "Rose, behind you!"

She jumped, hugging the child tighter to her, and whirled to find the Krarg that had been skulking toward her, glowing a smoky dark red as it came together. Hard to believe something as big as all that could do anything but lumber, but he'd had them sneak up on him before, and knew they managed the silence by not fully manifesting until they reached the target. 

Rose looked shocked for a second, and then she looked so splendidly furious that the Doctor would have considered feeling sorry for the Krargs if she was in no danger. "Leave 'er alone!" she shrieked, backing toward the tables, away from the open stage area, as two Krargs tried to reach her.

The Doctor pulled out the sonic, wondering if he could find the resonance frequency of a Krarg Commander, flipping urgently through the settings as he dodged the two guards who were batting at him. He jumped over an abandoned cart, wishing he had his leather jacket. One of the Krargs fumbled, its arm brushing him, and the Doctor swore as the deadly crystal structure of the Krarg made short work of the sleeve of his tuxedo coat. 

He dropped to the ground and rolled away from them, knowing they couldn't see him well enough to step on him. His only other thought, besides getting them all out of there safely, was that Rose was not going to be happy if this went on long enough to ruin her beautiful dress. The sonic screwdriver would need an amplifier, and he knew just the thing.

Pulling Rose's pink phone from his pocket, the Doctor dodged the Krargs again, leading them away from Rose, keeping the Commander distracted. She couldn't escape, but if only he was fast enough, she wouldn't be harmed. He'd just have to buy her a new phone. Again.

He scrambled around the foyer of the restaurant, the sonic buzzing as fast as it ever had, Krargs lumbering, crashing into each other, stumbling after him. He paused only on the delicate bits, and only for seconds at a time.

He left it too long one last time, and a Krarg managed to get a swipe in across his back, shredding the tuxedo coat from collar to tails. He dove beneath a waiting bench, planning to come out the other side, Rose's shouted pleas and angry threats filling his thoughts. He tweaked the phone one more time. 

Triumphant and relieved, he tucked the sonic into his trousers pocket, since the coat was barely hanging on anyway. All he needed now was the right note. Rose had a decent singing voice, if only he could get her to do a chromatic run for him. 

He noticed, only when he peered out to shout instructions to her, that the Krargs chasing him had frozen. Horrified, the Doctor yelled to get their attention again, kicking one of them firmly in the shin as he rolled out from under the bench.

The Krarg followed him with its eyes, but didn't move to stop him. Nearly panicking now, the Doctor was already running when he pushed himself to his feet, turning toward the booth Rose was hiding under.

The Krarg commander had her by the ankle and was trying to tug her out of her hiding place. The only thing the Doctor could be grateful for was that their hands were smooth, unlike their arms. "Rose!!" He flicked on the phone's new recorder, hopeful and desperate as various pitches of hummed notes dropped from his lips.

"Doctor!" she answered back, and the Krarg reached another arm under the table.

The little girl had been quiet this whole time, so quiet the Doctor had been afraid she was damaged by all this. He'd thought she might be catatonic or hysterical. He'd even wondered if she understood at all what was happening. Apparently, as the giant boulder of a Krarg Commander closed a hand on her, she did. 

She screamed, and kept on screaming. Her voice, impossibly loud, clamored its way up the scale, rising higher and higher. The chandelier vibrated. An upset wine glass shattered. Flute kept on screaming, her tone true and deadly. 

The Doctor realized exactly what was happening, suddenly and finally making the connection he needed. He raced towards Rose. Flute's voice jumped a major third, and didn't even pause for breath. The two guard Krargs staggered out of the restaurant. The third fell over an upturned chair and exploded on contact with the floor, scattering crystal like a shattered chandelier. The Krarg Commander released its prisoners, flailing backward. Flute stopped screaming, flinging herself at Rose who held on to the child as if she'd never had any other mission in life. 

There was a second, just a split second, where the Doctor thought, or hoped, or believed with desperate devotion, that the creature could have chosen any better plan. It didn't even think of it, as the Doctor opened his mouth to try to encourage it. The Commander lurched toward Rose's hideout again, raging.

Flute screamed again, not needing the run to find her pitch, just hitting the seventh note and holding onto it like a life raft. The Krarg Commander exploded into space dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Krargs were shown in Shada, but as much of the episode was lost, and no explanation of the krargs was ever giving, I'm just borrowing their form and assigning them a nature.


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor crashed into the table and Rose peered up at him from underneath, horrified and not quite able to see him. She wanted to hold him, wanted it desperately, wanted him to hold her.

They weren't like that, neither of them, wouldn't take that kind of time when there was a world to save. "C'mon, Flute," she whispered urgently, "we gotta get out."

"Quickly," the Doctor agreed. "It'll only be seconds before that thing respawns."

"What, like a video game?" Rose wrinkled her nose and helped Flute get to the open edge of the table.

"Not exactly," the Doctor corrected. "It just transfers its awareness to another one of the drones. Takes a minute and thirty-eight seconds, and that's all the time we got." He lifted Flute lightly to her feet, then reached down and hoisted Rose, and she felt her head spin with wonder and joy as he lifted her. 

She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and stay here, tangled up in him like they should be in sweaty sheets right about now. Instead, there was a little person who needed them, and though Rose didn't blame Flute, she was only human and wished a little that this hadn't happened. She did the only thing she could, touched a hand to the Doctor's cheek, before getting her feet under her and turning to check on Flute.

The Doctor had the sonic out before Rose had even gotten there, the blue beam flashing over the child's arm and then her ankle. "You're alright," he said, so gently. "You're gonna be just fine."

Rose nodded and wrapped an arm around Flute, and the child simply melted into tears. There was no time, Rose knew, or the Doctor would have let her cry forever. He was just that good with kids. He picked the little girl up, and hoisted her high in a fast maneuver that actually distracted her from her tears. Something banged hard against the inside of Rose's chest and she was willing to tell herself it was envy if she had to do. The Doctor gave her this look, this strange, sad, beautiful look, as Flute wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and lay her head next to his. The banging got worse.

"C'mon," said Rose, urgently. "We gotta go." The Doctor reached and took her hand, and they ran, like always. But Rose wasn't really running from Krargs.

*

"She's an actual Siren," the Doctor accused Belamy, the older of Flute's siblings. "You took a baby Siren off-planet." The two kids had been hiding against the wall, and appeared to snatch their sister from the Doctor. They froze at the sound of his voice.

Rose put a hand on his arm, and the Doctor could almost feel her thinking, soothing him, Doctor they're just kids, be nice... He sighed and took a deep breath. "Rose, Belamy and Ringtone, Flute's older brother and sister." He handed Flute over to Belamy who looked her over from head to toe, just as Rose had, as if expecting to find her missing a nose or something. Flute played happily with the amulet around her brother's neck, and giggled when her sister kissed her cheek.

"Ringtone?" said Rose, giving the Doctor a suspicious look like he was having her on. He shrugged, and grinned at her, and seriously contemplated kissing her breathless, before remembering he had a couple of kids to put the fear of space into. 

"It's why she's so quiet all the time, and so perceptive," the Doctor explained. "Flute's a Siren, and they've already started her training. There's only one or two born in every generation on her world, children with perfect vocal control, with perfect pitch..."

"I don't understand," interrupted Rose.

"I'll explain as we go," the Doctor promised, and now wasn't the time to be staring at her legs as she tried to put her dress back in order. Shame about that, really, because by now, he'd hoped to have that dress into this kind of disarray, and for a perfectly good reason, instead of running. He shook his head, then raised his voice to get the kids' attention again. "Where'd you pair put your ship?"

Belamy pointed one way, Flute the opposite. Ringtone rolled her bright green eyes as only a teenage girl can really manage (the Doctor made a mental note to get lessons from one). "Honestly, you two, couldn't find your way out of a tartin patch!"

"Tartin?" Rose asked as Ringtone led them down a third, much more likely corridor.

"Flat vegetable," he said vaguely. "Of course, they're parked on the other side of the station from the TARDIS."

"That was a given," Rose agreed affably.

The Doctor shook his head. "I was telling you about math."

"You were telling me about Flute, actually," Rose corrected, her eyes on the now cheery little girl who danced ahead of them, and then back, giggling.

"Oi!" the Doctor interrupted. "Stay where I can reach you. That goes for you two, too."

"Yes sir," they all said, as obedient as the Doctor had never been. Rose looked up at him and smirked, then stuck her tongue out, just so he would know not everyone would do what he said. He wanted to chase that tongue back behind her smile, even knowing she would never obey him. Made it more fun that way. Besides, there was a reason he hadn't said "don't wander off".

He shook himself, trying to remind himself to stick to his earlier conviction. "Math. Flute's music's on a mathematical plane that pierces the Vortex, gives her glimpses." He smirked a little. "Should sound a bit familiar?"

"Hush, you," Rose said, but she hugged his arm, he supposed to let him know he wasn't in trouble.

"They train 'em all their lives to deal with it, 'cuz that sorta gift comes bundled with a permanent headache, and they're practically worshipped. The only restriction on a Siren, ever, is that they're not allowed to leave the planet."

"Why?" Rose demanded, and the Doctor knew she was getting annoyed. 

"Because it hurts them," he soothed. "Space radiation opens that sense of theirs beyond their ability to control it. She's been concentrating, trying, but I dunno how well it's been working. She was in danger and she knew it, but she couldn't figure out what to do about it, so she came to find us..."

"The strangest people in the place," Rose suggested playfully, and squeezed his hand.

The Doctor squeezed back and couldn't even contain his relief as they approached the docking bay. "Right, you lot, get to your ship and straight back to Syre. You're not doing your sister any good bringing her out here..."

"But we..."

Rose took over, her compassionate and reasonable tone overriding the teens' obvious impulse to argue with any adult who told them what was good for Flute. "You want to help her have fun like an ordinary kid, right?" she asked.

Belamy and Ringtone nodded, heads down as they shifted guiltily from foot to foot. There was human in the Syreite stock somewhere, obviously. Would explain a bit, how they were the only completely humanoid species out here in the middle of all these species of silicon-based and insectoid life.

"Well, you can't risk all of you getting hurt like this just for fun. You have to be more careful, not get caught, that sort of thing. You certainly can't go about setting off an invasion!"

"Aren't you s'posed to be tellin' them to behave?" the Doctor asked mildly.

"Did that work on you?" she wondered, her expression adorably dubious. 

He grinned. "No, you?"

"I got in a spaceship with a stranger, what'dya think?" 

"Time machine," he corrected, faking a sulk.

Rose laughed and kissed his nose and the kids all giggled in a sort of disgusted fascination. "Point is, you kids have to keep safe when you're doing things you're not s'posed to do, or your parents find out..."

"And for pity's sake, if you get in too deep, get help," the Doctor ordered.

"What he said," Rose agreed.

"She will walk through worlds and walls for you," Flute said, suddenly. "Don't make her."

"What?" asked Rose, looking shocked and frightened at once.

"She doesn't understand what she sees sometimes," said Belamy, tugging Flute close.

"It's hard, when she's such a little kid," Ringtone agreed. "Sometimes we tell her and sometimes we don't."

"No one ever listens to me," complained Flute.

"They will soon," said the Doctor. "An' I am listening to you." He knelt before her, just to let her know he was serious. "You're safe now, an' you'll grow up too fast anyways. Be little a bit longer, and forget everything you learnt here but the lessons."

"You've already chosen the road not taken," said Flute, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Stay your course."

All his life he'd run into them, the bright, the shining, and the insane, mad prophets and wise ones, blind ones and deaf ones. A tiny and young one shouldn't shake him so, but she did. Her faith in her facts was so strong. "I will," he said, and he wasn't even sure he was lying to her when he said it.

"Let's go," begged Belamy.

"Before Mum gets home?" suggested Ringtone.

The Doctor buzzed the door open, Flute in his arms for just a few more moments. She was such a precious, precocious little thing. 

"Look out!" Rose yelled, just a second before the Doctor realized what he was looking at. There were two Krargs standing next to the Syreite Triplette that had to be the kids' little planet hopper. They'd seen the new arrivals, and had their crystalline weapons leveled at the group before Rose's warning sounded.

One of them started glowing. The Doctor frowned, then dragged the kids behind one of the ships, and around. Rose followed, looking like she desperately wanted to ask questions but knew she couldn't risk it. "Right, on your ship," he ordered, shoving Belamy toward the door.

"We'll never forget you," Ringtone promised.

"Thanks, Doctor, Rose," Belamy said.

"No time," the Doctor insisted urgently, as Rose hugged each of them twice and shoved the teens through their ship's door. "We got 'til the Krarg Commander finishes manifesting to get you out of here..."

"There's more of them coming," Belamy said, pointing. "I see four in the doorway."

"Doesn't matter how many they summon up, it's only the Commander that's important."

"Let's get out of here," Ringtone proclaimed fervently.

"Doctor!" The voice was like granite slabs scraping against each other. 

"Bye!" Rose whispered, and handed Flute up to her brother. 

"Bye, Time People," said Flute. It took an unnaturally long time for her giggle at Rose's expression to fade away.

The hatch closed. The Doctor rounded on the Krargs. "This stops here," he said, simply.

"They've got us cornered," Rose whispered.

"It'll be fine," the Doctor whispered back, taking her hand and holding tight.

"The child is an enemy of my kind," the Commander spoke.

"They're taking her back to her world. You're safe, no one's been hurt."

"She means to harm us."

Rose stepped in front of him. The Doctor wasn't happy about it, but he needed the distraction, so he let her. "Oh my god," she exclaimed. "You're how big?!"

"You have seen it does not matter, Mate of the Doctor. My kind will be harmed by..."

"How'd you even know they were here?" Rose demanded. "Leave the poor things alone!"

"We have monitored..."

The Doctor tapped Rose's phone and the whole bay erupted with the sound of Flute's supernal cry. He stopped it after only a few seconds of watching the Krarg fumble around. "Now," he said, "you're gonna let these kids go, and get the hell off this space station. You been watching, waiting for an excuse to pick a fight with these people, an' I'm not havin' it. Return to your customary place in space and time."

The Krarg chuckled, which was not at all a pleasant sound from a very small mountain range. "We have you and your mate surrounded. Give us the child, and we will give you your lives."

"Never!" said Rose fiercely.

"Last warning," the Doctor said coldly. "Leave, now, or I'll reduce your whole fleet to space dust."

"You would not punish all for the act of one," the Krarg Commander decided and advanced on them, his drones moving to ring them in. 

"You're right," the Doctor admitted flippantly. "But I got no qualms punishing you." He pressed the button and activated the new looped playback on Rose's phone. The volume, however, was tremendous, louder than even Flute had managed. The Krarg clamped its hands on the sides of its head, an instinct the Doctor found interesting on a purely scientific level, even as he swallowed the guilt. 

He thumped a hand against the ship, and leaned close to it to shout, "Go!" against the hull. The sound carried, as it always did in Syreite construction. The engines fired, and one of the Krargs, too close to that end of the ship, exploded.

The Doctor took Rose's mobile out of his pocket and shoved it into the nearest computer panel. It screamed on and on, never stopping, and he and Rose ran.

"How're we gonna get back to the TARDIS?" Rose shouted against the omnipresent din.

The Doctor slapped the control panel for the door they'd just used. A quick zap with the sonic, and that door wouldn't be opening without a major overhaul. A Krarg appeared ahead of them, glowing red. The Doctor hardly heard Rose's scream over the chaos. He grabbed her arm and pulled her away, and then she was pulling him away as another came toward them from the left. A third one appeared and then exploded, a cloud of silicon dust rendering the air unsafe. 

Rose coughed and the Doctor passed her his handkerchief as he fumbled along a wall. When he found what he was looking for, he sonicked open a hatch. "Through here!" he shouted, and tugged Rose inside.

It was quiet as the door behind sealed shut, but the Doctor wasn't paying any attention to that. He caught Rose around the waist and pulled her deliciously close. Savoring the feel of her in his arms after the series of near death experiences, he thrilled silently when she just curled up tighter in his embrace. He meant a great deal more than the present moment when he murmured, "Hold on."

**

It started, Rose thought, to be one of their "we didn't die!" hugs, but she quickly realized that the mad dash and shocks weren't over. There was a rush of air, something she heard more than felt, and though she didn't open her eyes, she knew the Doctor had just hooked his free arm around something. She felt his muscles flexing. There was a tremendous pong, like a gigantic flare gun firing, and then the bottom fell out of the world. 

It was a bit like swimming, but without the sense that there was a right way or wrong way to be. The Doctor held her closer, and Rose felt the vertigo of relying entirely on his strength. There was no gravity, nothing whatsoever to hold them to the ground. The sheer amazement forced Rose to open her eyes.

"Careful," the Doctor murmured. "Makes some people sick."

The view was so incredible, Rose didn't even notice feeling anything but awe. "We're inside one of the bubbles, aren't we?" she asked, and even though she didn't know why she was whispering, she didn't stop. There was deference that belonged to being weightless in space, respect owed to a Universe that allowed such terrible danger and staggering beauty in a single event.

"Main attraction," the Doctor agreed, equally quiet, his tone as light as he'd been serious mere moments ago.

They floated in silence, watching the local group sparkle softly back at them, two strange decorations in a glimmering stellar snow globe. The peace in the moment was perfect, all magnificence and adoration, and the adrenaline racing through Rose's body jangled for something to do. 

She laughed because she felt like she'd explode from sheer joy if she didn't. They were alive, and they were alone together at last, and they had nothing but time and stars, and that was all she'd ever wanted anyway. Rose's arms went around the Doctor's neck, and it was amazing how easy it was to kiss him when the height difference didn't matter.

He brushed her lips carefully at first, as slow and hesitant as the first time (that she remembered), his kiss like a bird that could be startled into flight by the most subtle thing. She still couldn't help the tiny noise that escaped her, a whisper of desire somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

The Doctor hesitated for just a fraction of a second, just long enough that Rose was aware of it, knew that something she wouldn't particularly like had just flitted through his mind. The information melted into the background, though, when his arm tightened, pulling her roughly against him. "Rose," he breathed, his breath almost hot across her lips. She gasped, shaking. 

Their lips grazed like laser fire, close enough to leave friction and burn, and then there wasn't any stopping the collision. Rose couldn't have even said who was kissing who. His tongue prodded her lips apart, but then she swept out to meet his invitation, tangling them together as they traded taste for taste. It was artless and messy and the most right kiss she could ever remember. 

Only when she realized that her hair was getting into their kiss did Rose remember the gravity - or the lack of it. She broke away from the Doctor's mouth with a quiet giggle, pulling several long strands away from her face, and one from his. "Sorry," she said, but she wasn't very, and besides, he had pulled her hair down in the first place. 

He looked bashful and charmed at the same time, that heart-breakingly beautiful smile of his, all confused and delighted at once. It clenched within her breast, joy too big for her heart, for her chest, for her body to hold, and she had to kiss him again, because she could breathe it into him that way, and maybe he had room inside for how much she loved him.

He blurted a startled laugh into the kiss, losing his balance to keep her from tumbling them both into a wall. They toppled easily, nothing to stop them, and she would have kept right on giggling about it while they tumbled in helpless free fall. She would have, but the thought, the wild, wicked idea, snuck into her head from somewhere, and it sprouted and grew like wildfire.

She took a deep breath, trying to banish the impulsive images from her mind. This couldn't take too long, and then they could finally, finally... "How long are we here for?"

"I dunno," the Doctor admitted glumly. "I didn't plan this."

Rose chuckled, to cover her frustration. "Can you make a guess?" She turned toward him, a bit baffled as to how they'd gotten nearly horizontal to where they'd started. 

He looked at his watch, though it didn't tell time, and Rose thought he might be doing some quick math. "An hour and a half."

"Seriously?" She lay back against nothing, peering up into the stars. Her body tingled. "Too long."

The Doctor reached for her hand and sighed. He sounded sarcastic and at least as frustrated as Rose felt, when he grumbled out, "Fantastic."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, no one was reading this purely for this part of the story, so I don't really need to say "smut ahoy" do I?

"I'm a rubbish boyfriend." The Doctor felt compelled to mention this, despite hoping that Rose didn't see it that way. Rose turned toward him, her eyes wide, and then she started to giggle. Wounded, the Doctor mumbled, "What?" 

Rose choked off her laughter with what sounded like a bit of effort, and then she reached for his hand, tugging him. "That's not the way I see it," she said, her voice turning wonderstruck as she talked. "I mean, look at this, Doctor." She gestured at the stars beyond them, at the galaxy beneath them. 

Inside the little pod, they were in an affected free-fall from the space station, a loose, scattered orbit designed entirely for aesthetics. Her touch turned to a simple caress, simple and wholly enticing at once, and he felt like he was in free fall, too, but without anything to hold him. But there was her, her touch, her words, her love, his Rose. 

"There's all the universe outside, Doctor, and you're with me, right here, you and me on the edge of time and space and everything. Maybe it's not romantic to you, but it's us to me, and that's all the romance I'll ever need."

He smiled, her words a balm to his fears, comforting and exciting at once. "You'll want flowers someday," he said, but there wasn't much behind it any more.

"Maybe I will," Rose said, firmly. "Lucky for me I got a boyfriend who can show me a whole planet full of 'em, yeah?"

He grinned, helplessly hers. "Yeah," he said, and he wanted to kiss her, so he did.

Rose's hands traveled up his back, this time, and as soon as she made contact with his skin, she pulled away, her eyes wide. "What happened to your coat?" she demanded, her hand tugging fretfully on his shoulder.

"Krarg got a swipe in at me, s'all. I'm fine."

"Take your coat off," Rose insisted. "Let me see."

"Rose..." he started to protest. She silenced him with a fiercely stubborn look, and the Doctor found himself complying top speed, despite the fact that it was far easier said than done in zero gee. He let the ripped jacket and shredded shirt just float there, turning toward Rose and feeling a little silly for letting someone inspect him for boo-boos.

Then she touched him again, her fingers hot and gentle, and he forgot why anything else mattered. His back arched toward her, and he let his eyes fall closed to savor the moment.

"Damn, and I liked that tuxedo, too," Rose murmured. Her voice held that completely sensual tone again, and combined with what had turned into stroking his skin, it was having a definite effect.

"Rose?"

"Hm?" she mumbled. The very next thing he felt was a soft, wet touch along the curve of his spine, just above the small of his back. 

"Rose," he whispered, just to say her name, feel it on his lips.

He felt her smile against his shoulder blade. "Sorry," she said, but she didn't sound the least bit, "I been dying to do that for months."

He didn't have it in him to protest, but Rose seemed to give that name to his silence. "I s'pose the locals probably wouldn't want aliens shagging in their snow globes..." she muttered, actually sounding apologetic this time.

"They don't mind." He could protest, now. "Kinda expect it, really, s'why they put all these handholds all over the place."

Rose giggled again and wrapped her arms around his waist. The Doctor let his head fall back onto her shoulder so he could look into her dancing eyes. "That what you brought us here for?" she teased.

The Doctor shrugged. "That and the Bananas Foster," he claimed, blithely.

Rose hugged him tighter, all enthusiasm and laughter, and he loved her so much he didn't think it would all fit inside him. He turned so he could watch her smile, could hold her while she made the whole universe glow around them. She sniffed then, and tried to look serious. "Well, all right, then," she said, chin high as if she was choosing to join him on some mad crusade. "Let's do it."

She burst into laughter again with a, "God, I sound like a commercial!" and the Doctor couldn't help laughing right along with her. They were useless for several long moments, mad, silly things floating inches from deep space.

"I really didn't plan it like this," the Doctor said after they'd calmed down. "I thought... I mean..." His face felt very hot, because he really wasn't sure how to say all he had planned. _The first time in the honeymoon suite between the nicest sheets ever a Time Lord had been forced to pick, and then there'd have been the shower, and maybe back to the bed, and there'd probably have been various pieces of furniture to try out, and then,_ maybe, _here..._

"See," Rose teased, "you are rubbish at planning. Me, I'm rubbish at being patient..."

"You said you'd waited for me for months," he started, "and I didn't..."

"Yep," she cut him off, a hot little finger resting on his lips, "and we're both done waiting, now."

"Are we?" the Doctor said, and he would never be able to explain the freedom he found in the relief that coursed through him. He felt almost dream-like as he considered her, hovering there next to him, her heat beckoning in the darkness of space like a fire on a cold night. He smiled slowly, his hand curling at her waist as he moved to pull her close. He'd never even known his voice could sound so dark and intent when he murmured, "Oh, good."

Rose gasped as the Doctor sucked her finger inside his mouth, his eyes closing as he swirled his tongue around it. She immediately needed to be closer to him, her body responding by arching toward him, forgetting about gravity. He chuckled darkly as he righted them, and Rose couldn't help grinning. 

He turned them to press her against the curve of a wall, and it seemed easier to Rose just to go with that. Everything seemed easier when it was them, together. There'd been a time in her life that wanting someone this much would have embarrassed her terribly, but the little lacy knickers she wore were soaked and the tiny strapless bra was chafing at hard, aching nipples, and she didn't care. She'd wanted him long past the modesty point, and knew he'd wanted her, too, and now it was time they both had what they wanted.

Gravity was useful, but apparently not necessary. In some ways, such as floating up out of her little dress, it was more useful not being there. She looked down to watch the dress hovering away, and met the Doctor's eyes. He gave an absolutely filthy smirk and Rose couldn't help but realize what her attempt to be cute had done, what she'd managed to leave right in front of those wicked blue eyes.

He caught hold of her stockings, his calloused hands over the too-thin silk making her shiver again. "You don't usually wear these," he pointed out, accurately.

"I know," Rose allowed, cheerfully. "But I wore them for you. Thought you might like 'em."

He smiled, fingers tracing the designs in the lace work that held them up. "I do," he said, quite sincerely. He looked up, met her eyes almost shyly this time. "You wear these in my dreams sometimes."

She might have groaned softly in answer to that, or it might have been the way his huge hands nearly circled her thighs then. He pulled her close enough to kiss the lace of her knickers, and she trembled with excitement. She couldn't remember ever having been so wet in her life before, and even though everything felt a little strange without the gravity, the sheer rightness of it - him and her and a crazy situation - was more than enough for Rose.

"Doctor," she whispered, as he nuzzled at her, his huge hands sliding up her bum now, cupping it. She could have sat there comfortably, his hands a perfectly sized perch for her bottom, and she couldn't help grinning at the idea. Then, she felt it, his tongue in the most shocking place, and she didn't have any idea at all. Something in her wondered if she should be embarrassed by this, but it was as irrelevant to her as the starfish splay of her hair above her head. No one had ever done this for her. Nothing had ever felt this good, nothing she had ever imaged was as good as the tiny, sexy prod of his kiss against her racy little knickers.

Her hips arched of their own accord, driving more of her sopping crotch toward his exploring lips. "Doctor," Rose whimpered, couldn't help it, because it was so much more than she'd ever had, and not enough yet, not at all. She let her fingers rake through his hair, her hands trembling as she enjoyed the little thrill of the short cropped strands on her sensitive palms. Everywhere he was touching her was on fire, and everywhere she was touching him was not enough for her.

She tugged to get his attention, and he broke away from his exploration to look up at her, blue eyes blazing, his expression completely sexual and completely content. "'Lo, Rose," he said, and that was all, and his voice felt like a sex drug, and she wanted to just spread her legs over his shoulders.

"I need... want..." She didn't know how to finish a sentence, she wanted so many things at once. She wanted her tongue in his mouth and her hands on his bum and his cock in her mouth and... "Want to touch you," she said, stubbornly.

"'M not done yet," he replied, petulant and pouty, and then he pulled her close again, tongue sliding past the slender lace-elastic edge of her knickers to touch the quivering protrusion of her clitoris. He explored it, tongue writing an awkward, lazy circle around it, and Rose wondered if the stars she was seeing now were supposed to be there or not. He looked up at her, then, and licked his lips, blue eyes blazing. "You taste so good," he murmured, and brushed his lips across her belly. "So good."

His shadow of a beard burned, and her body burned and she needed him so much, right now. "Doctor..." He slipped his hands in the back of her knickers and slid them down, and Rose watched them drift off with no little satisfaction that she'd made the right choice in leaving the garter belt at home.

She worked her fingers into the clasp in her bra, and only paused in unhooking it when she noticed the look of fascinated awe on the Doctor's face. She leaned over to kiss him and her balance faltered, but he caught her. He would always catch her. 

The Doctor wasn't entirely sure he could breathe. He had an armful of warm, naked Rose, a dark-night-secret-dream-come-true armful, and he had to concentrate on not just diving in to devour her. Breathing wasn't exactly high on his scale of importance, compared to kissing Rose and touching Rose and tasting the sticky musk of Rose clinging wetly on his lips. One far distant corner of his brain was calculating friction and surface tension versus lack of gravity, but he didn't actually care what it came up with as long as it didn't interrupt what was happening right here and now.

She squirmed against him, her body moving in that instinctive dance that lovers know, and he responded to her like they had always been partners through these steps, matching hip and thigh and gasp. He ached to have her, any - every - way he could. The whole flawed lead-in was fading away into a blindingly perfect moment, when the Doctor could at last take his Rose and everything she'd offered.

Still, if she kept moving like that - _"oh, fuck, Rose"_ \- he wouldn't last. She wouldn't last either, he realized, her body already trembling as she pushed against him, her wet heat against the ache in his trousers. He was torn, between wanting to make her come right now and wanting to be with her when it happened, between wanting to be in her and wanting to watch. He couldn't choose, but then maybe that was as much a reason why they'd never gone this far before: because he could never decide where to begin.

Rose solved the dilemma for him, her hot little hand working into the space between them (such as it was), tugging at the clasps on his trousers. He gasped when she finally touched skin, thrust himself into her exploring touch, swore musically when she pulled away, and then chuckled at his own frustration. Rose grinned at him and giggled, and the Doctor had to catch the nearest guard rail to keep his grip on reality when her hands slipped around and cupped his bum. He kicked his dress shoes off, grateful it was just his dress shoes instead of his boots.

Rose shot him the most wicked, most dangerous little smile, and the Doctor knew he was probably in serious, delightful trouble. He reached for her breast with his free hand, flicking his thumb lightly over the closest straining peak. She arched toward him, as if she couldn't help herself, her eyes drifting closed as she made soft, sweet little noises that sounded better than any approval he'd ever heard before. 

She lowered his zip carefully, with trembling fingers, and the Doctor's trousers joined Rose's dress in wandering lazily about, not that he minded, not that he even cared. Rose kissed her way down his jaw, down his chest, and down still more, and all the while, her free hand did things to him the Doctor didn't think he'd even imagined. (He was grateful he hadn't, actually, because he'd've probably never gotten anything done with this on his mind - more than usual, anyway...)

"My turn," Rose whispered, and then, oh - _try to breathe_ \- oh, and then. 

Her tongue slipped out to taste the tip of his penis, wet and soft and so sweetly strange, as her eyes sought his, branding him. He watched her, helpless and awed and completely fascinated, as her lips parted and she took him, slowly, inside. She curled her hand around the base, fingers tight and tender at the same time, and when her lips touched her fingers, her eyes batted closed. The Doctor called on every ounce of self-control he had. He wanted to move, was desperate for it as her tongue stroked the prize she'd captured.

She sucked on him, then, a strange, erotic thrill, and he was shaking, trying to hold back. He wanted to pull her off his cock and push her up against a wall. He wanted to come all over her face, watch her lick creamy liquid from her pouty lips. He wanted her to come, to taste her orgasm, to watch her thrash in ecstasy. He wanted, he wanted.

Rose took her hand away and he whimpered. She fondled his balls in one hand, her other hand squeezing his bum. Then she took him in, deep, the head of his cock against the back of her throat, her eyes like mortal sin as she peered up at him. The Doctor lost his grip on the wall. He lost his ability to think. He just concentrated on Rose, on what she did to him, on those brilliant brown eyes twinkling with love and mischief. This was almost worth the wait. His hands slipped into her hair.

Rose released him with a slick noise, a chuff of amusement or frustration over the damp, tight skin. The Doctor shivered. "Now what?" she murmured, a purr, a suggestion.

The Doctor grinned, as the best idea came to him. They drifted without aim or direction. He traced his hand down her body, drawing her closer as best he could, using what control he had over their momentum to guide her around.

"Where are you going?" she demanded gleefully, laughter in her voice, confusion in her eyes.

The Doctor chuckled, reached, and caught her ankle. He was not oblivious to her yelp of confusion or amusement as he tugged her close, but he was focused. Rose had the best ideas most of the time, even if she didn't always realize what they were.

He pushed her thighs apart and buried his face in her dark, crinkly curls. Rose shrieked again, but this time, it was definitely a pleased noise. "Like that?" the Doctor asked all the same, and flicked his tongue over her engorged clitoris.

She paused for a moment, then took a swipe at the head of his cock in apparent retaliation. "Think I oughtta be embarrassed," Rose admitted after a moment.

The Doctor reached and traced a finger along her slit, the other cupping her bum to adjust her angle. "Are you?" he wondered. He licked her clit again, grinning when he felt her shiver.

She pushed her hips into his face. "God, no." She wrapped her hand around his cock again, squeezed, sucked the head into her mouth. Even if there had been gravity, the Doctor thought he would have lost the idea of up and down at this point.

The Doctor sucked on her clit, and pushed one finger inside her, trying to concentrate on her, even as his brain went vacant with the bliss of her touch. He stroked her slowly for a moment, then pushed a second finger inside her, and Rose released him with a gasp like she'd forgotten to breathe. 

"Gonna come if you keep doing that," she pointed out. She moaned as he found a very sensitive place inside her and touched it. "God. Doctor!"

"Sorta the point," he said, and then forced his tongue in with his fingers. 

She went down on him in earnest, now, finding a rhythm for her hands and her lips that drove him close to the edge, fast. She hummed as she sucked him, and made high pitched, pleasured noises. Her hips thrust toward him as if beyond her control, as he matched her rhythm with his fingers and his lips and his own writhing hips. 

It was building, hot and blinding, in the base of his spine, in the back of his skull. He could taste her, taste how close and hopeful she was, how wet and his she'd become for him. He did this to her. He pressed down on her clit, sucked it hard, thrust his fingers deep inside her while she thrashed. "Rose," he moaned, almost surprised he still knew words.

She came for him, then, her whole body stiffening as she jerked and spasmed against him. Her lips clamped down; she sucked him hard in the throes of her pleasure, vibrating his cock with little cries that escaped. Then, he was coming, too, a wave of ecstatic bliss that felt endless rolling over his body while he gasped and flowed and drank the pleasure from his lover's body. 

Rose was jostled from her sated euphoria by bumping into an unexpected wall. She laughed, had to, to let the joy inside her out. The Doctor chuckled - she could feel it where his head rested against her belly, and reached out lazily to snag the nearest guardrail. He righted them in a moment, and Rose relaxed against his chest, grateful for the lack of gravity because she was sure her knees couldn't hold her.

"That was..." She had no words, hadn't really even caught her breath yet.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Yeah," he agreed. "That was..." He shook his head.

She tried to put her thoughts into some coherent order, but all of her senses were still staggered, really. The love she felt looking into his eyes was tangled up in the lust-riddled knowledge that she was going to get wet every time she remembered this for a long time to come. The worry she had kept at bay for what their first time would be like had been overtaken by her fears about what he would think now. The awe at the splendor of everything he had done for her was flummoxed at her own smug satisfaction about what she had done to him. Surely there was a word for all of this, and for the sense of needing to do more, besides?

The Doctor kissed her, then, and the words didn't matter. Heated intensity mingled with comforting satisfaction, just as their two flavors mingled in their kiss. He explored her slowly, and Rose returned the favor, tongue drifting lazy escort around his as he learned his way around her mouth again.

She was surprised at how she was already beginning to get warm for him again, just as she was surprised when she felt the stirring of his erection between them. "Doctor," she whispered, content, and arched her hips into him. He whispered back to her, words she didn't understand, but somehow she knew what they meant, and they were gorgeously filthy. 

So concentrated was Rose on the Doctor's renewed vigor for her that she didn't hear the faint buzzing sound until it was considerably louder than faint. "For pity's sake," the Doctor grumbled as he broke the kiss.

"Now what?" Rose demanded, the lovely feelings of her recent orgasm almost dissolving in frustration.

"Ride's almost over," he admitted, reaching to snag her dress as it meandered by.

"Oh," said Rose, and she realized she'd nearly forgotten how they ended up here in the first place. "Right." She plucked the Doctor's trousers from an orbit above their heads.

The Doctor sighed and snatched her bra along with one of his shoes. "What d'ya say we try this again back in our room?" he offered.

Rose considered, and her consideration included the trail of absolute chaos in the wake of this intended simple trip. "Doctor, please don't take this the wrong way, but can we just go home? To the TARDIS, I mean," she hastened to clarify, in case he took it an even wronger way than just thinking she wasn't happy with the results of his attempt to impress her.

"S'pose we should, really," he decided thoughtfully. "Doubt the space station would survive another attempt."

Gravity appeared, but it was only a little, thankfully. Rose couldn't help giggling at his mischief grin. "Are you saying something's trying to stop us?"

"Well, you're the one that said the universe'd implode. Maybe someone trying to stop that happening."

She couldn't resist. She gave him her best grin as up and down became places to consider again. "Did I?"

The Doctor shot her a look for a moment, a happy, loving look that she only rarely got to see. Then, he smirked wickedly, and pushed her against the wall, covering her with his long, lithe body, and turning a vaguely building desire into a sudden desperate ache. His kiss was fierce, possessive, raw, and Rose loved it almost as much as she loved him. 

Drawing back to look at her, the Doctor's expression was a picture of arrogance. "Well?" he asked.

Rose stammered something that might have been, "You think you're so impressive," but she might've missed the mark, at least a little. _Push him down on the jumpseat and climb on to ride him to heaven... umm..._

"I am," the Doctor answered, and his lust-filled eyes said he could read her mind. "And you know it." He smiled then, tenderly, and cupped her face with a hand. "You love it," he said, but there was a question there, really, filling in for what he really wanted to know.

She nodded, let him see any answer he needed in her face. "You know I do," Rose assured him. Then, she grinned again, let her tongue poke through her teeth and watched him watch her. "You love it, too, Doctor," she teased, because she would never have to doubt him.

The Doctor nodded, and laced their hands together. "Always."


End file.
